CHAPTER 3

Aria blinked. Her eyes crept open slowly, her vision blurred. She could barely see the spinning fan above her. She blinked again, and her sight gradually became clearer. Then came the surge of pain. Her face contorted as she made out her surroundings. It was her room.

Her head was throbbing badly. She sighed, placing an arm over her forehead, feeling the bandage wrapped around it. She glanced at her mum, who was seated by her side on the bed, lost deep in thought. Aria moved, her elbows propped up as she tried sitting up.

“Love, don’t,” Teresa said, turning swiftly.

“M… mum,” Aria’s voice cracked.

Her mum pulled her into a tight embrace. Tears rolled down her eyes easily. “Calm down. You are safe now,” Teresa assured, caressing her hair.

Aria sobbed, her breath shaky. “Mum… they… atta—”

“Aria, where is your sister?” Don Lorenzo’s voice cut in from across the room, cold and emotionless. He stood with both arms crossed, his gaze fixed on his daughter. Aria turned, but met six eyes glaring back at her: her dad’s burning gaze, with Uncle Roberto and Uncle Marco beside him.

“Dad…” Aria sobbed, the word sounding like an admission of guilt.

“I asked you a question. Where is your sister?” he asked again, his voice controlled but terrifying as he took a step forward.

Aria turned back to her mum. “Mum,” she cried.

“Speak up, love,” Teresa said, wiping her tears.

“Some masked men attacked us,” Aria announced, her voice thin.

Don Lorenzo frowned, taking two more steps closer to the bed. His voice started low. “You girls went out without my permission. I have told you countless times: anytime you want to go out, take five of my best men!” he yelled, the veins in his neck pumping out, his rage now visible. Aria flinched, grabbing her mum by the arm as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“Lorenzo, please, not now,” Teresa pleaded.

Don Lorenzo’s face twitched. “This is all your fault.” He pointed at his wife. “You made her the spoiled brat that she is today,” he raged.

“Brother,” Roberto D’Amore called from behind, trying to calm him down.

“Now see where that has got us,” Don Lorenzo muttered. “Elena has been kidnapped. And you know what will happen if she gets into the wrong hands—into the Vallenis’ hands.”

“Brother, let’s discuss this calmly,” Marco D’Amore advised, taking a step forward. Don Lorenzo walked across the room, both arms planted on his waist.

“Let’s take action. Let’s hit the Vallenis harder,” Marco suggested, looking from Roberto to the pacing Don Lorenzo.

“We will do nothing of the sort,” Don Lorenzo declared and turned. “Do you have any evidence that it was them?” he asked, locking eyes with Marco.

“No, sir,” Marco replied, his voice low.

“What we will do is search, and pray it wasn’t them,” Don Lorenzo stated. Bang. He walked out, slamming the door. Aria flinched, hugging her mum’s arm tighter.

“Bella,” Marco called his niece by the nickname he gave her. Bella meant beautiful in Italian. He sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand, caressing it softly.

“Uncle… Marco,” her voice cracked, her lips trembling as she turned to him. “Uncle, I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t worry,” he said quietly. “We will make them pay. Believe me.” His eyes darkened as he pulled her into a hug.

Roberto D’Amore stood still, leaning against the wall, his eyes filled with rage. “Get some rest, love,” he said, locking eyes with Aria. “They will regret this,” he vowed before walking out. Some minutes later, Marco followed him.

Now alone with her mum, Aria whispered, “Mum, I just wanted a normal birthday. I never planned to put Elena in danger,” she cried.

“I know, love. Don’t worry. Your dad won’t let anyone hurt her,” Teresa assured, flicking a strand of hair off her wet cheeks.

Why would they leave me behind and take Elena and Vincent? Federico? His name cut through her thoughts.

“Mum… they killed him,” she cried, fresh tears dripping down.

Teresa pulled her into a hug. “Calm down. It isn’t your fault,” she consoled her, patting her back.

The rest of the evening was dull and quiet. Aria submerged in guilt, the whole family in sorrow. 

Aria woke up the next morning. The pain in her head was less intense, but the search for her sister was more frantic than yesterday. The D’Amore men were everywhere, checking every nook and corner of Rome, but still to no avail. Aria lay on her bed, watching the tray of food beside her.

Federico's gone. Because of me. Because I wanted one normal birthday. One. And Elena... God, please, if something happens to her—

She halted and tilted her head as the echoes of footsteps approached. Her door swung open. Still lying down, she glanced over her shoulder to see Uncle Marco, her favorite uncle.

“Bella,” he called. Closing the door behind him, he walked in. This was the second time he had come to her room that morning.

“Uncle,” Aria muttered, sitting up.

“Come on, Bella. Take your breakfast,” he ordered.

“Uncle, any update?” she asked, her voice thin and her eyes glimmering with hope.

“Nothing…”

“Don Lorenzo! Don Lorenzo!” someone yelled from downstairs.

Marco halted. “Take your breakfast. I will be back,” he ordered, striding out.

Aria sat up, recognizing the voice. It was Matteo’s, one of her father’s most trusted men. Matteo hardly talks. Why is he shouting?

Aria stepped down from her bed and walked out. Her dad and mum descended the stairs on the other side of the mansion while she took the staircase on her side. Don Lorenzo and Teresa reached the last steps. He frowned. “What’s the matter?”

Matteo’s voice hitched. “Sir… sir, we found them.”

Relief spread across almost every face present in the grand hall of the mansion. Aria smiled as she took the last step.

“But, sir,” Matteo continued, his lips trembling, his eyes filled with emotion.

“What’s the matter?” Teresa asked, taking a step forward. “Where is my daughter?” Confusion etched on her face.

The mansion doors glided open. Two men carried Elena between them, her head lolling back. Blood had dried in streaks down her neck and face. Her eyes were half-open, staring at nothing. They walked to the center of the grand hall. Two other men followed behind, supporting Vincent from both sides.

Aria’s knees buckled, her heart pounding against her ribcage. She stumbled forward, her eyes welling with tears. Teresa ran to her daughter as they gently placed Elena’s body on the floor. “Elena. Elena,” she cried, shaking her by the arm softly.

Don Lorenzo froze and gulped down a breath. His brother, Roberto D’Amore, took long strides forward. He bent down and checked Elena’s pulse. He blinked.

A daunting silence engulfed the room for almost ten seconds.

“No… please ” Teresa cried. “It can’t be.”

Aria’s heart sank to her stomach. A tear slid down her face.

GOD, PLEASE. Please let her be breathing. Please let this be a nightmare.

Roberto's hand fell away from Elena's neck. He turned to Don Lorenzo and shook his head. “She is dead.”